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It’s a story… have you been there?
Pslam 28:7 - January 31, 2020 - Heartstrings at First United Methodist Church
God, you are our strength and our shield; our hearts trust in you, in you we have found our courage; our wild hearts dance for joy, and in our songs, we will praise you…. Psalm 28:7
I’m wondering if you would be willing to help me out this week.
I’ve been pondering and pondering, and I just can’t come up with an answer. Can you help me figure it out?
Here’s my dilemma:
Is the mark of a wild heart it’s scars? Or it’s light?
Let me explain….
It wasn’t too long ago I was just living life, minding my own business.
I saw some storms gathering, but way too far away to cause me any worry.
I was busy. I was rocking’ my world, I was not going to stop to take names, or for some little storm.
But it wasn’t a little storm.
I mean, it started slow….A rain drop here, another there.
Then, it wasn’t slow no more. The storms of life came crashing down, every drop felt like knives invading my world, until I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.
My thoughts racing and chasing until I couldn’t figure out what was first and what was last.
And suddenly. It was silent.
Not silent. I could hear the storms raging.
I could feel them rocking my world.
But I was in a place, so dark, so lonely, so numb.
Have you ever been there?
That place that is so numb.
While the storms rage, tearing apart your world?
Maybe you’ve called it depression, or covid, or grief…
The ground of your being,
shaking and cracking and
demanding you justify your reason for being… for taking up space.
I was there… In the deep, deep dark… numb, alone.
But then, I wasn’t alone.
There was something there with me… a presence, a wild heart. Daring to sit with me in my storm.
Just being in the presence of another… it took away some of the pain. Some of the loneliness.
Then I felt it leaving!
I reached and grasped and begged it to stay…I needed it…
It turned, and told me that this place was really, really hard, but I would be okay.
You know what it said right before it left?
It told me I would understand one day.
I didn’t see this wild heart drift away.
I was way too blind.
Way to numb.
But I caught a tiny glimpse as it went… I saw the bruises and the scars.
When it was gone, I saw something on the ground…
it was star dust I’m sure! Just a little glimmer. A twinkle of light.
I picked it up, and cried out, “you dropped something.”
But that wild heart it was already too far to hear my cries.
You know what I did? I ran after that wild heart.
I know it was the wrong choice. The wrong thing to do… but I needed more.
I needed that wild heart… so I ran after it!
Hard and fast. I thought, if I can just catch it!
Then, then I’ll be better!
I caught a glimpse. That light.
So magnified, so bright!
I chased and ran.
(I might’ve manipulated a bit… tried to be in control… but shhhh… don’t tell.) and it worked!
I caught that heart! The light! So much light!
Oh bubble gum and beauty. Perfection like I have never seen!
I was finally out of my storm..
Soaking in that light!
But why did I still feel the rocking? Hear the rumbling?
Why was it the harder I tried to smile the right smile, cry the right tears… the dimmer it all got?
You know, I looked again at that light. I got a closer look…
… and all it’s perfect beauty…
it wasn’t wild at all… no star dust, just a glitter bomb hiding the truth…
Light isn’t the mark of a wild heart… it can’t be…So, then what could it be?
I know! It was the bruises and the scars I caught that glimpse of!
That’s the mark of a wild heart!
So, I went seeking again… I needed to find MY wild heart…
Seeking and searching, running, and needing…
I finally caught a glimpse of MY wild heart…
But the closer I got, the more I wasn’t sure…
all I felt coming from this heart was anger. And resentment. And judgment. And loneliness. This wasn’t MY wild heart.
But I didn’t leave it.
Not quite yet. I needed to sit for a few.
Just be there.
I sat. I cried.
How could one heart hold all of this alone-ness?
But soon, it was time for me to go. I had to keep searching. Seeking.
I felt that lonely heart reach out for me. Begging me to stay…
I said the only thing I could think of to say, “one day you’ll understand.”
I left my dearest treasure, that speck of light, I had been holding so tight.
Seeking and searching, running, and needing…
I needed my wild heart but there was nothing. Not a thing.
The storm was raging… on and on… my whole world unstable.
I was so afraid. Tears ripping me apart day after day… but I couldn’t find my wild heart.
So, I stopped. Right there. Right where I was. I cried. And cried. Until all I felt was alone.
Until I wasn’t alone.
I felt a wild heart, come close.
It stayed for awhile and then left again.
I tried to reach out. But too late. It was gone.
But there where it had been,
was a twinkle.
I snatched it up and held it tight.
I was alone again.
It was so hard to be alone.
But another wild heart came along… stayed a few.
This time, I knew it would go. And it was okay.
I smiled…. Just a little… when I saw that little speck of light it left behind.
That storm, it continued to rage.
The fear continued to hold me tight.
But I grew to expect those wild hearts.
I could feel them coming close. I could feel them gather by my side.
I could feel their fear and their courage.
I could feel their freedom and their commitment.
I could feel their depth and their lighthearted joy.
I could feel their scars and I could feel their light.
Each time they would come. Sit with me for awhile.
Then, at some unknown signal I never quite saw, they would go.
And every time, they would leave a speck of light.
Each time I would grasp it up… hold it tight.
One day, I stood up.
I don’t know why. I don’t know what changed, I was just ready to stand up.
Okay, that’s not that true. I crawled. Inch by inch. Clawing my way out… then I fought and fought and fought…
then I stood.
It’s funny, that moment I stood, I didn’t realize that storm was still raging so hard.
When I paid attention, I could feel it rocking my world. Tearing it apart.
I could hear the destruction of what used to be…
I could see the bangs, the bruises, the pain, the scars.
But for some reason, I wasn’t afraid.
I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t blind or numb.
I didn’t know what was coming next, but
I KNEW it would be beautiful.
One day, after that storm had past, I caught a glimpse in a mirror.
What can I say?
I was shocked.
Looking back at me was not me… I mean, it was. It was right there, MY wild heart!
I saw bruises and scars and wounds…I’m not sure will ever heal…
and there was light… little specks of light…
I leaned into that mirror to look a little closer….
I needed a closer look…
That light? It was the thread binding my wounds.
The stitches that gave me the strength to heal.
The thread weaving itself through my life to show me the way.
The thread that held it all together.
I can see the light now. When I look. I recognize it…
I recognize that grace.
The closer I look, the less I can tell.
Is it the scars?
Or the light?
That makes a wild heart.
This Post Has One Comment
For me I absorbed this as poetry. I am sure that everyone has a different take away after hearing. And you can feel it all and recall how this has been realized in your life. I did think it was brave to do this type of sermon, but I enjoyed it and was captivated by it.
Inconsistancy in symbolism is life!!! (Romans!)
Maybe I haven’t been paying attention, but didn’t realize you had this site until you mentioned it in the podcast! And I went to search! Love you!